Rose Fitted with Thorns
by Fantasy Fan 223
Summary: Tom Riddle saw in Hermione Granger what her peers her parents and even she herself could not—fantastic potential and a wonderful weapon against Dumbledore and his precious Harry Potter to boot. At the impressionable age of five, he takes her under his wing and cultivates that potential to its finest. [Dark!Hermione]
1. Chapter 1

**AN: **I **wanted to add a "Voldemort raises [X] as his own" story to the ranks as well as a "Dark!Hermione" and a Dramione story so what did I do? Ta-da!**

**Short chapters for now, but it will get longer as the plot picks up speed, for now, hope you lovelies enjoy!**

**EDIT July 2020—this chapter has been COMPLETELY rewritten!  
**

**~~*~~**

**Chapter One: Discovery **

It was easy to forget how...boring life could get when you surrounded yourself with boot kissers and cowards, when your closest "friend" was a bloody snake and you spend your nights all alone in your study, finding out things of great fascination but not having anyone worthwhile to share it with because again, you were surrounded by boot kissers, cowards and a snake, thus their opinions were more worthless than a broken wand.

It was even easier to forget how much one could wish such a boring life when the only thing left on your mind was fear.

Fear over an actual _child._

But alas, that was the life of Tom Riddle. When he wasn't suffering under the crushing weight of his failure to kill the Potter brat, he was sulking in his study wishing that using the Cruciatus Curse on his incompetent followers or raiding Muggles could regain their humour.

In five years, they had not.

He was sitting in the middle of a park packed with little Muggle victims on recess who would never know what hit them, yet he couldn't muster anything but mild disdain.

Tom sniffed as he scowled at the Kindergarten children running and jumping from platforms and swinging from monkey bars, playing tag and screeching at the top of their lungs.

A mere blood traitor and his meddlesome mudblood wife were the ones making him feel drowned in anger and frustration. And it was that Harry Potter he couldn't—!

There was a light tap on his arm and Tom turned sharply downward to glare at the snot nosed brat that had dared touch him.

The child flinched and took three steps back, wide brown eyes blinking warily up at him and brown hair framing her head like a frizzy cloud. Under her arm she carried an oddly thick book and she said, "May...may I sit, sir?" With surprisingly good pronunciation for someone her age.

Regaining his composure, Tom gestured to the free spot on the bench next to him with a light tilt of his head and the girl quickly took the invite, clamouring up the dull blue painted bench while he slid away from the Muggle filth.

He had hoped her presence would reawaken that hatred and desire within him.

It did not.

Tom glanced at her from the corner of his eye, watching the girl open the book—a dictionary he realized (what in Merlin's name?)—and skim through its contents while humming cheerfully to herself.

The girl stopped the noise abruptly and shared his sideways glance once she felt his gaze. She rose her head and said, "I'm sorry," sheepishly. "Am I bothering you?"

"And you would assume that why?" Tom questioned causally, still not bothering to look at her properly.

"You were staring," she responded with a weak shrug. "You were thinking about me."

"So I was."

"And am I bothering you?"

Tom watched the resignation and apologetic furrow of her brow and allowed an amused breath to escape his lips before responding, "No," he lied. "But why you would care of the opinion of a stranger is beyond me."

The girl blinked slowly in surprise and uttered, "Oh." She then turned back down towards the book resting on her lap as Tom looked in the distance once more, feeling that mixture of frustration, fear and anger—

"But, sir. I have to ask," the girl piped up once more and Tom turned back to her. "What _were_ you thinking about then?"

Tom blinked slowly at her. Why in the blazes did she care so much? Still, he found himself answering once more. "If you must know, I was curious as to why a young girl like yourself would find a _dictionary_ of all books entertaining,"

"Oh," she said again, before turning back to her book. Still, every two seconds she glanced at him swiftly, shifting awkwardly and stopping herself sharply every time she started humming again.

Tom sighed in annoyance and said, "If you are that bothered by my presence you are free to leave it."

The girl squeaked and shrunk into herself before quickly shutting the book. "Sorry," she said subduedly as she slid off the bench and began to leave. She wasn't too far away before one of the children paused in their game of tag to shove her to the ground with a laugh.

Tom watched as the bush haired girl hit the ground with a cry of surprise while the shover and majority of the other children nearby laughed along with him. That little act of child cruelty brought back...unwanted memories and he quickly managed to stop them from taking shape.

He was then struck with immediate surprise when the fallen girl slowly pushed herself up and shot the boy a glare—causing an invisible force to slam into him and send him flying into the trees bordering the park. The force then continued onwards knocking over multiple trees and tearing them from their roots.

Tom choked on a surprised breath, as his eyes darted between the wailing boy writhing on the ground to the equally shocked girl slowly pushing herself to her knees.

Magic. There was no doubt about it, but powerful magic at that. This child, so young, had thrown someone 30 feet away and destroyed a row of trees.

Tom stood up sharply as the Muggles screamed and ran around like cockroaches under light, running into the school building or being called on by equally panicked teachers. The little girl was standing by the time he reached her, and her head was snapping to and fro in panic and horror.

"Your name," Tom said, snapping her out of her daze and having those wide brown eyes look on his, bafflement and curiosity filling his thoughts—a fantastic change form the usual paranoia and anger. "What is your name?"

"H-Hermione," she said in a scared shaking voice. "Hermione Granger."

Granger. That certainly wasn't a wizard name. Of course, there was a chance she was a half-blood and had simply used the name of her Muggle parent—but Tom highly doubted that; she looked scared and confused, clearly this was her first time witnessing the wonders of magic.

So a mudblood then—which made absolutely no sense. How could one with Muggle heritage be so...powerful? It was ludicrous!

Still, his eyes had not deceived him, filthy blood or not this child was an exceptionally powerful witch.

"Hermione!" One of the teachers called, frantically waving her over to where other crying and yelling children were haphazardly lined up.

The girl—Hermione—quickly bent to pick up the fallen dictionary before stating a quick, "Excuse me, sir," and dashing away.

Tom watched her leave, eyes narrowed in thought.

Hermione Granger.

**~~*~~**

It hadn't been the first time.

Ever since her fifth birthday Hermione had been making odd things happen, making things float, exploding cups, changing the colour of her clothes.

But throwing Bradley through the air and destroying a bunch of trees was certainly the scariest time her...oh she didn't know, ghosts attached to her being? Tele...telekinesis?

Sure, her parents used all manner of excuses—even the news blamed an earthquake for the fallen trees just last week. But Hermione was no fool, and earthquakes didn't pluck a singular person and toss them like a rag doll.

But if this thing—whatever it was—was indeed getting stronger and more dangerous she'd need to look up all these things, no?

So Hermione visited her favourite place in the entire world—the library.

The tiny form bobbed between chatting adults, and depressed looking teenagers slumped over homework before finding her way to the library desk and rising on her toes to peek at the familiar woman sitting there.

She looked up from her book and smiled. "Hermione! Back again?"

"Hello, Ms. Annie," Hermione said politely. "Can you direct me to the section on folk lore?"

Ms. Annie tilted her head curiously. "I didn't think you were interested in those things, Hermione."

"But I am now," Hermione said, falling back on her heels to give her legs a brea before rising again. "Can you take me there, please?"

So now, Hermione had a plethora of books crowding her atop an empty library table, she had opened the one about psychic powers first and was just on the first page when a vaguely familiar voice said, "At it again with your books, Ms. Granger?"

Hermione's head snapped up and she looked over her shoulder to find the familiar voice's handsome figure sitting on a library armchair behind her, legs crossed and a book spine perched on his raised thigh. He smiled and shut it before standing and making his way towards the tiny brunette.

"You're that man from the park!" Hermione realized as he took a seat in front of her and glanced down at her book selection. She remembered he was the only one who hadn't been scared of the "earthquake" and had also been a tiny bit unfriendly.

Here however, he seemed far more pleasant as he politely asked, "What are you reading today?"

Hermione rose the book from the table and allowed him to look at the cover.

"Interesting. Correct me if I'm wrong but this has something to do with...that _incident_, yes?" The man questioned and Hermione blinked at him in surprise, lowering the book back down.

"You don't think it was an earthquake either?" Hermione asked.

The man snorted and shook his head. "Had it been an earthquake the park would be gone and that boy wouldn't have been shot into the stratosphere."

"Exactly!" Hermione exclaimed, wincing when a couple of people hushed her. In a lower voice she said, "Do you know what it was?"

The man smiled impishly and leaned forwards. "Would you like to know a secret, Hermione?"

Hermione beamed. She had never been given secrets, she hadn't any friends to exchange them with and she didn't have any of her own to tell her parents. Eagerly, the five-year-old nodded.

"Look here," the man said, sliding something skinny and wooden from the pocket of his long black jacket. Then, he pointed at the book Hermione had been reading.

Hermione's eyes widened in awe as the book lifted upwards on its own accord and began to flip through pages. She turned her wide eyes to the man as he gave a pleased smile and lowered the book with the stick.

"What was that?" Hermione whisper shouted in absolute delight.

"That, was magic," the man said as he put his stick back in his pocket. "Something I believe you used that day at the park."

Magic.

Hermione gasped slowly. Magic, oh, that made sense! The flying boy and floating toys and shattering cups.

"And I can do that?" Hermione asked in awe.

"You've don't it once—very wonderfully might I add," the man said with a broadened smile.

"Not only once," Hermione corrected, and seeing the man race two curious eyebrows she continued with, "Lots of times, actually."

"That simply proves it further," The man said. "You're a witch."

Hermione giggled and hugged herself jubilantly. "I can do magic like you! Are you a witch too, then?"

"A wizard, to be precise," the man said, holding out his hand towards her. "My name is Tom Riddle and I have the slightest hunch that this is the beginning of a prosperous relationship."

Hermione let go of herself and shook his hand. "Hello, Mr. Riddle, pleased to meet you!"

**~~*~~**

**AN: A little set up before I start the actual story!**

**Any questions I will try my best to answer (so long as no spoilers are attached)!**

**Hope you liked! **

**Fantasy Fan OUT!**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: I'm actually so confused lol. Why did this get over 70 follows?! This has never happened to me before! Holy shoot, thanks guys! XD**

**And a big thank you to my reviewers too! Thank you all so much for your support!**

**crazyKate92: Thank you! And I hope you enjoy!**

**lexicon63738: Thank you I'm glad!**

**vsattler: Thanks, I'm looking forward to showing you more!**

**shatakshee dhoundiyal: Here it is, hope you enjoy it! **

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**san01: Thank you very much!**

**BEFORE YOU READ**

**Chapter one has been completed rewritten, please read it again first before reading this chapter! **

**Chapter Two: Beginnings**

Tom despised the current Ministry of Magic with every fibre of his being—more so then the rest of the pathetic pie, The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. The fact that wizards and witches were stopped from showing their gifts before lesser beings was completely nonsensical. So, to an idiot, Tom managing to get a high and respectable position in that very department would be hypocritical.

However, Tom knew that if Harry Potter was as dangerous as the prophecy suggested, it would only be a matter of time before he accidentally unleashed something that would alert Tom to his presence. And when he did, it was Tom who would be there to smite him once and for all.

While his charisma made him a good candidate for introducing Muggleborns or oblivious half-bloods into the world or reprimanding careless wizards and witches, unfortunately, none of them had been Harry Potter.

A week before he properly introduced himself to little Hermione, however, the position served a new purpose.

"Evening gentlemen," Tom announced simply to the department as he threw open the doors dramatically and walked in on them rapidly speaking to one other and writing down notes.

"Evening, Riddle," One of the obliviators—Arnold Peasegood (laughably horrendous name that was) said absentmindedly as he held up his wand to seize the drawing chalk on the blackboard before them.

"The perpetrator of the explosion of magic in London—have you found him?"

"No," Another obliviator—Jason George sighed. "And the fact that the damn thing took place at a school makes it harder to find who and who not to obliviate,"

Tom fought a pleased smile at that particular convenience and he said, "Any theories?" As he took a seat next to a witch who gave him a bashful smile, he returned it with a dimpled grin and she flushed.

"We...we're thinking um...Death Eater attack," The witch stammered out as quickly turned back to her notes with shaking hands.

Good, the Ministry was acting just as idiotic and predictable as he'd hoped, and with them believing foolishness and trying to think up a story to feed Muggles, Hermione—for now—remained his little secret.

"I was at the park that day; I've seen the whiteness." Tom informed them. "I can deal with the Muggles that haven't been obliviated yet."

Arnold beamed. "Good plan, Riddle!"

Good plan indeed, for going around obliviating Muggles was A, one of his favourite hobbies and B, would allow him to find little Hermione again without suspicion, for such a powerful witch—mudblood or not—simply couldn't exist without being imprinted with his influence.

Once he had found her in that library that fateful morning, he knew he'd found something truly special.

"What's going to happen now, Mr. Riddle?" Hermione has asked as she stopped shaking his hand and plopped back in her seat "Am I going to keep accidentally blowing stuff up? Will I be able to transform and make pretty glitter?"

Tom wasn't sure how he'd missed it before, the girl was practically oozing with magic so powerful that it thickened the very air.

Oh yes, he was certainly keeping this one.

"You'll be able to do far more than that, Hermione," Tom said with absolute honesty. "However we may need to talk another time," he tilted his head to the side towards the large library window. "I believe your parents are coming for you."

Hermione gasped and quickly jumped off the chair. "Oh! But thank you for talking to me Mr. Riddle, will I see you soon?"

Tom hadn't bothered stopping the excited smile from spreading across his face as he said, "Count on it."

_BAM. BAM._

And now here he was, fulfilling his promise.

Dogs barked loudly at the sudden sound of gunshots and several lights were turned on in nearby houses. Tom watched from within a nearby phone booth as if it were a Muggle film and a cruel smile on his lips.

He certainly could have obliviated Hermione's parents and her, start over with a blank lump of clay to mold to his liking but this...

Two more gunshots and a female scream cut abruptly short echoed through the bark filled night.

Tom's smile broadened. This was simply just far more fun—and convenient; three less wasteful entities to pollute the planet.

He gave his wand a flick and the Imperious Spell cancelled out, releasing the random Muggle he'd controlled from his grasp.

And now to make Hermione Granger disappear.

**~~*~~**

Lily Potter sighed in sympathy at the horrible news playing on the TV before her.

_"Two dentists, Jean and Adam Granger were the victims of a break in by a librarian by the name of Vanessa Annie. They were shot in bed twice before..."_

Lily's head snapped to the right when she heard the sound of pounding footsteps. Within seconds, her son Harry had darted down the steps and charged through the living room.

"Walk please, Harry!" She called after him, voice tinged with amusement as she craned her neck from her spot on the sofa and watched the boy jump up and down excitedly before the door.

Muting the television, Lily got up just as the front door opened and Harry charged towards the entering third member of the household screaming, "Daddy!"

James let out an overly dramatic "Oomph!" Before picking his son up and tossing him into the air. "Aye! There's my little wizard!"

James held the happily giggling Harry in the crook of his arm before giving Lily a quick kiss on the lips and entering the living room. "How'd you know I was here? You getting psychic powers now?" He asked Harry as he poked his nose.

"I saw you from the window!" Harry declared proudly.

"Harry, what did I tell you about looking out windows?" Lily said with a disapproving frown.

"C'mon, Lily nobody's going to see through a Fidelius Charm," James said flippantly.

"But what if—"

"Relax," James insisted, squeezing Lily's shoulder firmly. "He won't find us again. Not him or is crazy followers, alright?"

"And if he does?" Lily pressed.

"I fought him off our property once," James said with a smug smile. "I'll do it again."

"Yeah!" Harry cried, throwing his hands into the air. "And I'm going to help to, this time!"

"Atta boy!" James said holding up a fist for Harry to bump.

Lily forced a smile and sat back on the sofa, leaning back with closed eyes and a smile, wishing she could be just as carefree and optimistic as her boys.

"Whose up for some cauldron cakes before dinner, huh?"

"Me, me!"

Lily opened her eyes and watched James place Harry down, the two entering the kitchen while animatedly chatting. She then turned back to the TV, feeling a sense of foreboding at the sight of the dead couple.

**~~*~~**

**AN: Next chapter will be longer, promise! I'm also hoping to post it next week, however if you'd like to get it earlier you can become a ! Just search up "Fantasy's Writing Shop" and boom! There I am!**

**Hope you enjoyed!**

**Fantasy Fan OUT!**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: WOW another pointless hiatus. Oof. Sorry! Here's a quick chapter for you all, reviews will be answered next chapter!**

**Chapter Three: Forget**

Hermione had gasped and darted under her comforters when she heard the loud noises, for they weren't just _any _loud noise.

_**BANG, BANG, BANG**_

_Gunshots. _

Why were there gunshots? The curiosity within her wanted to investigate but the scared part demanded she hide under the covers.

That fear doubled when she heard her _mother _scream.

_**BANG, BANG, BANG**_

Hermione gasped and curled up tighter as the sounds reverberated through her bones…and then silence. She wanted to stay right where she was but...she had to check. She had to check her parents were alright.

Hermione peaked her head out first, before slowly sliding off the bed and landing. Her sock clad feet padded against the wooden floor as she opened her room door gingerly.

"Mom?" She whispered into the darkness, because if there was someone with a gun in here then she didn't want them to find her.

When she made it to the ajar room of her parents, Hermione hesitated before stepping in and that was when she felt blood soak through her socks. She looked down with another gasp, throat clenching and heart accelerating in speed as she ran towards the bed.

It too was covered in blood. And in that blood were two familiar bodies.

Hermione's mind went blank. She was frozen in place and unable to process what she was seeing—no—unable to _accept _what she was seeing because this...this made no sense. Why—how—?

"Hermione?"

The girl's head snapped up as she saw the fourth person in the room at the other side of the bed; Miss Annie with a gun shaking in her hand and eyes wide and horrified as if she too couldn't believe what she was seeing, as if she _hadn't _just done this.

Hermione may have been five but she was no fool and could easily put two and two together. So she backed away, mind still reeling but still working just enough to know that this woman was dangerous and she needed to stay far, far away from her.

"Hermione…" the woman whispered, shaking her head as she rounded the bed quickly and tried to get to the girl. Hermione stepped back until her trembling back was against the wall while Miss Annie continued, "I don't—" her body suddenly went rigid, eyes glazing over. She then raised the gun and placed it at the side of her skull.

_**BANG**_

This time, Hermione screamed and covered her ears, squeezing her eyes shut as she heard the librarian hit the blood slick floor with a thud.

Hermione sank to the floor and cried, shuddering and wetting her quivering palms with tears. A moment later however, a gentle hand was placed on her shoulder. She looked up, finding a familiar head of curly hair and intelligent blue eyes.

Mr. Riddle smiled.

His death eaters didn't question him when Tom demanded they obliviate every Muggle near Hermione's house. They didn't question who the sleeping girl in his arms was, or why he wanted every memory of her wiped, nor did they ask what he was planning.

Some times, it _did _pay to surround yourself only with boolickers.

Tom rested Hermione in what would be her new bedroom. It was plain for now, but he was intending on having her decorate it once she'd settled in as his new heir. Of course, first he'd need to rid her of her...less than proper blood but after that everything would be just as he wanted.

Within a few hours she would forget all about her Muggle parents and be taken in by this new world, she'd ask him all sorts of questions and he'd play the part of a good father by humoring and training her and showing her off to the public when the time was right.

That was what he had _hoped _would happen at least.

No. Instead, she was crying. _Again. _

Tom looked up from his book and watched the five-year-old sniffle as she shakily flipped through the pages of a spell book he had given her. It had been a week and she hadn't said a word to him no matter how much he prodded her and showed her a spell.

Weren't five-year-olds supposed to be _easy_ to entertain?

A week passed after that and Hermione had asked her first question while they were eating at the long dining table at Riddle Manor: "Mr. Riddle. Why did Ms. Annie do that?"

Honestly. Who _cared? _He was so annoyed at that question that he completely ignored it and went back to his food, but not after shooting her a glare to show her displeasure.

Perhaps it was a mistake though—she didn't speak another _month _after that.

He finally caved and purchased some parenting books after that. He _could have_ asked for advice from the mothers and fathers among his ranks but one, Hermione was a surprise he didn't want to spoil and two, that would simply be embarrassing.

The Dark Lord asking his followers for parenting advice?

_Ha!_

However, each passing day with no progress on their relationship, Tom had begun to seriously consider it.

In the third week of the second month, Tom addressed her once more as they read silently in his private study. "Hermione."

She looked up, but as always said nothing, wide brown eyes dull and lifeless.

"What would you like?"

Hermione looked down, bottom lip trembling. "My parents," she said softly.

Tom wanted to scream in sheer frustration.

"Yes, well," Tom said in a clipped tone. "_That _is not possible obviously, seeing as how their dead—"

And now she was crying again.

Now, _nobody _could tell him he hadn't tried to do this the "proper" way, the hard but "ultimately more rewarding way", that he was impatient in the _least _because _seven bloody weeks _had passed and this girl _for some reason _still couldn't let go of her _damn _parents!

Plus, he'd waited until next morning.

Just before waking her up, he became his next _obliviate _victim.

**AN: Sorry for the long wait! Anyways, I think I'll continue with these bite sized chapters instead of worrying about making them long at least until we reach the Hogwarts arc; this is good for you guys because it means faster updates!**

**Next chapter soon (hopefully)!**


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